Feet
by SteelDolls
Summary: Master x Kaito. Master loses it, drugs and ties up Kaito, and takes it out on Kaito and his feet. Warning: Adult Content, Torture, Sadism, Loss of Sanity, Nonconsensual Bondage, Blood/cannibalism, and a little bit of gore.


I don't start at his feet. The feet are amazing pieces of art- thousands of nerves, capable of feeling pleasure and pain of enormous magnitude. The feet are a connection to every other part of the body- through them, if one knows how, they can manipulate the nerves to relieve tension... or cause incredible anguish. The feet are unnoticeable- in contrast with any other part of the body, they are minuscule, and often overlooked. I like starting at the feet.

His eyes are still slightly glazed from drugs and shock. He wasn't expecting me to be there, to be waiting for him. But he knew. He knew he'd been bad. Now he would be punished. It was only justice. Those wide blue eyes looking straight at me don't yet comprehend... but they will. For the moment dry of tears...

I trace a gentle line down the center of his chest with the backs of my nails. He catches his breath... Are you wondering if this is a game of seduction? My lips meet his flesh at the juncture of his neck... soft, warm, almost loving kisses of tongue and teeth, gentle nips that redden his flesh. He rolls his hips slightly, letting out an involuntary moan. Does this turn you on?

You haven't realized the extent of your nudity yet- you're not the type that's ashamed of being naked. As I slowly move my head down to your navel, to the side of one hip, realization hits- isn't there something wrong about this? You try to tell me to stop, a voice rough with desire and longing to let the sweetness of this torture continue... but my dear, my fun time isn't near started yet. Before this night is over, I'll hear you scream. Kaito, please... let me hear you over and over until your voice cracks. Mmm...

Your protests aren't really heartfelt as my tongue darts out to touch your manhood. Hell, what man could resist this? Even tied and drugged you're still awake to natural needs... I press my mouth hungrily against you, your eyes closing in bliss for a moment before I bite down.

A small hiccup of air catches in your throat- does that hurt, baby? I lick at the small trickle of blood where teeth punctured skin, and then nibble on the torn flesh. By now you've collected your voice again- gods, let me hear that sweet scream. I suck hard on the wound until the blood flows freely, again and again. Your face is contorted in pain, and you're begging me to stop.

I rub myself against you and slide up the length of your body. The tears are glistening in your eyes, and you look scared... but it's nothing, baby. I have such plans! I want to lick your tears away and make you hurt...

"Shh... shh..." My crooning comforts you a bit, even though you don't want to admit it. Do you even know who I am? The whole time you were fucking with my body it was fucking with my mind... but this is real- the look on your face, the beginning of clear thought as adrenaline clears your system of the sedative.

You look in my eyes, so full of compassion. They say "Don't you know I'd never hurt you?" and I rub my face against your neck. "It's ok, Kaito... tell me what you feel. Does it hurt? Let me help you... tell me what I need to hear." My murmuring breath is hot and moist against your flesh. You've begun to shiver- from fear or chill, I don't know. "Tell me what I need to hear."

Your eyes are wide- your eyes get so wide from looking at me, all the time we've known each other... I can tell you're listening for the hidden meaning, a way out. My lovely Kaito... so sure I won't break you. I breathe in your scent deeply and lid my eyes in dizzy pleasure.

"W-What do you want? What do you want me to say?" You have only a slight stutter, but I can hear the pain there. Trying to ignore your leaking cock slowly dripping blood onto the linoleum flooring... it looks so beautiful against the white tile pattern. Don't you know there's nothing you could say? I shiver a little with almost orgasmic expectation. My lips brush against your ear.

"Tell me you're mine. Tell me you love me. Call me your master. Ask me... ask me to punish you." I pause for the briefest of instants. "You've been a bad boy, you know. Beg me... beg me to hurt you."

I pull away slightly and turn my head at an angle to catch your expression as you realize my intentions. I draw one last, long, slow lick from your collarbone to your jaw, then bite down hard. You squeal like a frightened pig. It brings a silly smile to my face... my piggy baby.

You're trying to squirm away, but you're tied too firmly... don't think I've underestimated your strength. My hands grab your buttocks and harshly feel down your thighs. You'll get bruises from that... but it won't matter to you once I'm done. What are a few bruises? I move my hands up and curl my fingers inwards to slice five neat rows of cuts down your lower abdomen. There- that's the scream I've been waiting to hear. How many more times can I hear that delicious sound?

I grab one of the many nearby containers and a handful of cotton q-tips. Unscrewing the cap, the stink of bleach permeates the room. Your eyes roll in fright and your struggles are exquisite. I wet the tip of one of the q-tips, and not-so-gently, apply it to the raw flesh. Your stomach muscles contort and you scream in pain. I'll bet it burns.

I hate to waste anything, so I stick the used swab into one of your nostrils- up just enough into the soft, inner lining so you can't snort it free. You thrash around, the little bit you're able to, trying to rub your head against anything to dislodge the intruder. I find the whole process highly amusing and hide my giggles behind one hand. After a few more seconds of watching, I remove the q-tip. Don't want to do anything too permanent in the beginning, you know.

You're desperately trying to snort out the traces of bleach- looks like you're having some trouble breathing. Those cute little gasps and wheezes are ignored, and I finally allow myself to be drawn to my old obsession... those fascinating, wonderful feet. I gently bite each one to heighten the senses associated with them: my background music; those sweet sobs for mercy. I take a small, thin needle and slowly jam it just underneath the nail of the smallest toe on your left foot. You instinctively try to curl your feet away from the needle and only tear the flesh more. My soul opens to each minuscule sound and twitch you make, savoring the truth of your expression.

I pull the needle in one quick stroke from the nail, then plunge it back in at the same place, but farther. I'll do this again and again, until your nails are bloody on both feet, then pierce tiny holes into the soles of your feet, into the sensitive arches, until the tears run freely and you want to end this torture any way you can. I'll close my eyes in pleasure and raise my head slightly toward the heavens as those magical words come from your lips, and you're begging with every ounce of charm your seven forefathers possessed.

I always want to start with the biggest toes, but it's better to start with the smallest first- it makes the ones afterwards seem so much more painful than starting with the bigger ones. You take good care of your feet, and your nails are neatly trimmed and polished. I take firm hold of your smallest toe and very, very slowly, bend the nail back... then peel it off. Your voice is gruff from shouting, but you manage another howl just for me. I pad the first toe with salt, rubbing it into the raw meat like tenderizer, and use rubbing alcohol on the next bloody stub of toe where once a nail grew. When I'm finished with one foot, I start on the next foot. I eye your hands speculatively and smile.

I have a favourite knife- small, very thin, and sharp as a razor. I turn your feet so the soles face me, and strap them securely in place. You try to kick me, wrench free... but you should understand by now that it's impossible. I rest the flat of the blade a moment against your bare sole, warming the blade a fraction, then turn it a few degrees and slice shallowly. I draw several small patterns- a flower, a cross, and a big smiley pair of boxer shorts, before carving tiny circles on each of your toes. I bathe each foot in cool water and dry them off with a big, fluffy towel. Blood stains the maroon linen.

I massage both of your ankles... now that the knife is to one side, you've subsided into pathetic whimpers. I hum slightly under my breath and taste a bit of your blood- it's sweet and coppery. My tongue caresses the pads of your feet, and I suck on your newly shorn toes one by one. A sharp stab of lust wracks me, and I bite your middle toe. The flesh breaks as I savagely shake my head from side to side and separate the toe from your foot.

I chew the bloody mess until it's dry and spit out the mess that's left. It's only whet my appetite, and I bite two more toes from the same foot in one mouthful, sucking the blood out of the stubs once I've properly chewed and spit again. I can't stand the taste of others' flesh... purfume-y and foul. But the blood- the blood is glorious.

Your unholy shrieking finally reaches my ears, and I break each of your remaining toes until pieces of bone stick out of the flesh. I lick away the stray blood from them, gnawing slightly on the tiny pieces of bone, poking and prodding each until your sobs die down to violent shudders only.

My hands massage your abused feet, tightening every now and then to threaten to crush them. I nip my way around your ankles and up to your calves. Changing from one leg to the other, I sink my teeth in deep and rip out a huge chunk of flesh, veins, and stored, blubbery fat from your left leg. I can't seem to get enough of this... it turns me on, seeing you this way. I know it's wrong, hurting you is a bad thing, but it's so good, and I can't stop. Please- someone- Help me.

Your leg is bleeding profusely, but I move upwards again, leaving large painful bite marks along the way that don't quite break flesh. I'd love to play with you over and over again, but our time will run out far too soon.

Let me hear what I need you to say...


End file.
